


Flirting and Batting her Eyes

by GamblingDementor



Category: A Gentleman's Guide to Love and Murder - Lutvak/Freedman
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Bisexual Female Character, F/F, Femslash, Femslash February
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-02-01
Updated: 2018-02-10
Packaged: 2019-03-12 10:32:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,086
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13545510
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GamblingDementor/pseuds/GamblingDementor
Summary: IT'S BETTER WITH A WOMAN! A series of drabbles based on prompts I received on Tumblr. Written for Femslash February.





	1. Sibella is worried that she won't be a good mother. Phoebe comforts her

"Just breathe," Phoebe insists, patting Sibella's shoulder as best as she can from the driving seat.

  


"I don't know if I can do this," Sibella whimpers. "Oh, love, I think this was all a mistake…"

  


Phoebe wants to hug her, to comfort her one way or another, but the wheel is blocking her. A pause at a gas station? But one glance at Sibella tells her she should not dare.

  


"A mistake? Darling…" She strokes Sibella's cheek softly before having to take back her hand for a sharp turn. Why is their cottage so far away from everything? "You'll be an amazing mother, I promise. I trust you."

  


Sibella sighs, rolling her eyes to the sky, as if she believed she could fool Phoebe even for a second by pretending to take this lightly, jokingly.

  


"Do you really think so?" Sibella mutters and even her mistress of the courteous tones and polite smiles cannot hide the real anxiety deep behind the words.

  


"Of course," Phoebe says, smiling − albeit at the road more than at Sibella. "I've always thought so. You're… thoughtful, and you're caring, and you're the love of my life and there is no one I would want to have a child with but you."

  


Sibella returns the smile with a touch of shyness and Phoebe's heart bursts with fondness for her. She truly believes her words of reassurance, of course, as much as they're meant to pacify the fretting Sibella next to her. Children were always part of the future Phoebe saw for herself. She had a clear vision, one which included Sibella as soon as they met. They say love at first sight doesn't exist, but Phoebe is pretty sure that "they" are much too jaded and don't know the softness of Sibella's smiles and how they entranced her from the start. They weren't dating for two days that Phoebe was already hearing the chimes of the wedding bells and when she shared it, her vision was so darling to Sibella that they couldn't help fulfilling it bit by bit. A proposal, of course, and Phoebe doesn't think she ever felt as loved as when Sibella whispered her "yes" in that timid voice of hers when the emotions overcome her, and a wedding, and now, very soon, their own little baby filling the empty room Phoebe has already decorated…

  


"What if the baby hates me?" Sibella asks out of the blue.

  


Phoebe stares blankly until another car honks at her and she gets back into control, shaking her head at the silliness of that thought. How unfortunate it would be to be imprudent driving today.

  


"Why on Earth would that happen? Sibella…"

  


"You're right," Sibella shrugs and Phoebe sees the hint of a teasing smile across her lips. "Everybody loves me, why would it be any different?"

  


She pauses, then her hand finds Phoebe's thigh and rests there.

  


"Thank you."

  


Phoebe covers her hand with hers, entwining their fingers, and pulls it to her mouth to press a kiss on it.

  


"I hope you feel better now."

  


"I do," Sibella says, "I think we'll do just fine."

  


"I'm glad you think so," Phoebe replies, pulling into the parking lot. "Because we're here. Help me get out the car, will you?"

  


Sibella gets out of the car and helps her very pregnant wife through the doors of the maternity clinic. In a few hours, they'll be mothers. And they might just be good at it. She'll just have to trust Phoebe about this.

 


	2. Phoebella: Going to a bar together because Monty ships it

Monty believes himself very clever, but Sibella sees right through him. _Oh, I'll be right back, order without me, my darlings. I'll just be a minute, my sweets. Don't mind me._ He's been gone for a full twenty minutes and Sibella is very sure he has no intention of coming back any time soon. Across from her, this so-called Phoebe D'Ysquith is smiling, dangling her legs that don't quite reach the floor on the tall stool. Sibella has barely said a word, entirely unlike her usual self but what is there to say when the guy you've been seeing gathers you with some girl to announce that before anything goes any further, he has something to admit, and when you find yourself on the sidelines of a triangle you never asked for, and when he not so subtly forces you to spend time with the other side of this triangle?

  


"What a great day," Phoebe sighs out happily. "Couldn't wish for better weather."

  


_Oh, so we're still at that kind of chit-chat_. Sibella returns the smile − she has to, doesn't she? What would Monty say if he learned that his precious little other girlfriend was slighted by the odd jealous one? But there is something about Phoebe D'Ysquith that makes her not entirely unhappy to have been left alone by their two-timing cur of a boyfriend on this terrace on a bright day at the lingering end of summer. The warmth of her manners seem too unpolished, too unprompted to be rehearsed.

  


"Oh, yes, it's lovely," Sibella replies politely, checking around for Monty's return one more time − nothing.

  


"I love the heat. There's something about it that just…"

  


The girl leans back to untie her braided hair and a cascade of brown curls covers her shoulders. Sibella blinks and takes another sip of her milkshake.

  


"But really, I'm so sorry," Phoebe says, "that Monty… I mean… Oh, are those marshmallows?!"

  


She looks at Sibella's drink eagerly, setting her own drink aside. Sibella glances at her, then at her milkshake, then back at the girl, and pushes it her way.

  


"Marshmallow cinnamon whipped cream surprise," she says, handing Phoebe her spoon. "The surprise is there's fudge bits underneath."

  


Phoebe beams with delight, her pleasure all the more apparent as she groans at the first spoonful. She offers Sibella a sip of her own smoothie, but Sibella can barely manage a first taste till she pushes it away.

  


"That is so hot!" She cries out, grabbing back her sweet drink and gulping a big sip to get past the peppery taste of Phoebe's. Did they put jalapeños in this?

  


Phoebe giggles and gets back to her own drink, drinking it like it's nothing, as Sibella's tongue is still burning.

  


"Oh, yes," she says. "I wouldn't have thought you to be such a sweet tooth. Monty made it seem like you were… Oh, forgive me, I shouldn't say this… I, erm, I'm not so good with, well, talking…"

  


There's something about her eyes, the bashfulness of them as she stares down at her drink sadly. Sibella thinks back how timid she looked that first day when Monty sat the both of them down for a heart to heart to heart. She gives her a tentative smile.

  


"I wouldn't have thought your tastes so… exotic. You didn't strike me as… Well, it doesn't matter."

  


"I guess nobody really is as they seem," Phoebe says pointedly.

  


After talking with Phoebe for a while, Sibella comes to the conclusion that there are worse people to be stuck in an unconventional arrangement than this quirky but charming young lady.

  


"I see you've bonded," Monty says as he takes the third seat next to them after what feels like no time at all speaking to Phoebe D'Ysquith. "I'm so sorry to be tardy."

  


He looks not sorry in the least, a cup of plain black coffee in hand that he sips from thoughtfully, glancing between the two of them with fondness. Sibella wants to pinch him, or kiss him, or anything.

  


"We have," Phoebe says. "I think this situation might work out for the best after all."

  


Sibella smiles and, reaching over to take Phoebe's hand in hers, nods.

  


"Yes, I believe it might."

 


	3. Phoebella: First time having sex together

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As the title of this chapter suggests, this contains explicit content. Read at your own leisure.

Phoebe's lips taste of cherry chapstick and forbidden thoughts. Sibella groans, ashamed of the sound but unable to stop herself. And how could she when her lovely study partner has pinned her down onto her bed and is dedicated to make her blush as red as her lipstick? Under Sibella's butt, the French literature textbook is a numb reminder that their cramming session has gone a quite unexpected direction − and to her delight.

"You're so beautiful," Phoebe whispers against her lips, capturing them again, and again and again. "I should tell you more how beautiful you are."

Sibella squirms under her weight. Phoebe is a tiny thing, for sure, but then Sibella is also under the weight of desire and guilt and confusion and it is all getting rather a lot. Phoebe pauses, leaning up on a naked arm to give Sibella a look that makes her want to hide right back in the closet or to say something stupid. She realizes that Phoebe is checking on her, and for the life of her, Sibella could not say if she's comfortable, if she's confident, if she's excited or terrified, but she knows she wants to feel this kaleidoscope of confusion for as long as she can.

"Stay," she says, grabbing onto Phoebe's arm.

She has no idea if she means right here in this bed, or the rest of their planned study session, or the night, or maybe the rest of her life, but Phoebe seems to always understand whatever Sibella says and she gives her another breathtaking kiss, gently twirling a curl of hair by Sibella's face.

"Would you like it if…"

One of her legs is between Sibella's and the pressure of it is subtle, almost nothing, but Sibella had been waiting for a hint and she nods decidedly, her throat tight. There's something about Phoebe, something inspiring and maddening that turns her into everything she hides about herself.

"Honey?" Phoebe asks sweetly, her mouth right at Sibella's ear, breath warm against her skin.

"Well, don't make me wait so long for it, then," Sibella replies sharply, a shadow of her strong self.

She feels Phoebe smile against her and suddenly there's intent in everything her hands are doing. One is sliding under her shirt, fingers padding across her skin, grabbing her closer, and one dips under her skirt, softly making its way up again and Sibella wishes she'd made a more clever choice of clothing before putting on those woolen tights on a winter day.

"I don't want to wait so long either," Phoebe whispers, her mouth dropping to Sibella's neck where she presses kisses between her words. "I've been wanting this since I saw you the first day of French Lit, how cute you looked in that tight shirt…" Her hand at Sibella's back unhooks her bra. "I've wanted you since then."

Sibella moans. Maybe that's a big part of it, maybe the main reason why she likes Phoebe so much. She has the knack to make her feel like the most beautiful, the most interesting girl in the world and that feeling is what Sibella lives for. Phoebe's lips kiss down her neck and Sibella pulls off her shirt (not the one she was wearing that first day, though now that she knows Phoebe likes it, she might as well wear it more often), her bra, and the hungry look in Phoebe's eyes reminds her that what she loves about Phoebe is vastly more than how freely she gives out her compliments. It's the smiles, the kindnesses, but behind it all glint in her eyes. They may look different as night and day but there is the same hunger for more that drives them both.

"Just let me…"

Phoebe pulls off her own shirt and Sibella's heartbeat pulses heavy and loud at her temples. In truth, Phoebe was not the only one who noticed a cute girl that first day of French Lit and Sibella bites her lip to stop herself from saying anything she might regret.

Phoebe makes her comfortable, the textbook dropped and forgotten on the floor, every pretense gone, a couple of pillows for Sibella to make herself at home, and Sibella never thought she'd feel so nude when Phoebe beholds her naked body. It's lucky she put on her lace undies today, though she dresses nice every day, but there was something special about the grin Phoebe got when she pulled them off.

"Beautiful," she purrs, already embracing her, finding her place between Sibella's legs. Her thumb is playing with a nipple, the other hand too subtle, too light on the inside of her thigh and Sibella wants more. Wrapping her arms around Phoebe's neck, she pulls her down for another kiss, so eager that Phoebe lets out a breathless laugh at her. "I know," she says, the words right at Sibella's mouth, warm and comforting. "I know, me too."

Her fingers find her and small and delicate they might be but as soon as she presses a couple inside Sibella, Sibella feels as though nothing else exists, as though her entire body was comprised in that one point of contact, that union between her and Phoebe. Her face buried into Phoebe's neck, she breathes heavily and wonders if Phoebe will think less of her being so weak to her advances.

"You know, since that first day," Phoebe says and Sibella has never loved the drawl of her voice quite so much, "I've wanted you right here, I've wanted to taste you."

Sibella shivers but parts her legs even wider to let Phoebe work her magic. Soon her kisses are dropping down Sibella's neck, stopping for a long insufferable time at her breasts until Sibella cannot take the wait anymore, and finally her mouth finds its path to where her fingers are, leading Sibella to madness and bliss.

"And now," Phoebe says, holding Sibella by the hips under her and tiny and fragile as she looks, she is a giant to Sibella now, "Now, I've got you."

Her mouth purses around Sibella's clit and traces circles so lazily, so gently, like she has all the time in the world and nothing better to do than spend the night between Sibella's thighs. The first knuckles of a couple of fingers toy with her, almost pressing inside but depriving her of it, just barely enough to tease her, and Sibella moans. Her hands bury into Phoebe's curls and she is afraid to be pulling too tight, but if she has nothing to hold onto, then she might drown and lose herself in the feeling.

"You're delicious," Phoebe tells her and another moan dies in Sibella's throat, her thighs clenching without her being able to stop them.

"Oh, Phoebe…"

She shouldn't be moaning another woman's name, she knows, not her study partner, but the name feels so right and Phoebe feels so right and everything in this moment is just as it should be. Phoebe reaches up to grab her hand, interlacing their fingers, palms hugging, and Sibella squeezes. Maybe too tight.

"I could do this all day," Phoebe mutters and probably thinks that Sibella can't hear her.

So could she. Sibella was with other people before, for sure. Not many and all boys, but they didn't feel like Phoebe. Phoebe feels right. Much more than right.

"I want…" Sibella moans but can't get her thoughts all in line. She looks down at Phoebe's eyes on her, the kindness in them, the softness, and feels that none of the boys ever had anything on her. Nothing at all. "I want…"

It starts from deep inside and Sibella bucks her hips into Phoebe, craving more, wanting to follow that inkling of something good. Phoebe catches on, of course, her fingers pressing down inside, giving Sibella the best of the best for the last of it. It's not too long at all until Sibella's body tenses up on her and she feels like a whirlpool of pleasure and guilt and perfection. Her breath stops, until it comes back all too hurried and she feels very warm. Phoebe allows her to bask in it, still latched onto her, making that pleasure last even longer, even if just a few seconds more, until Sibella lets out a heavy sigh and Phoebe lets go, sitting up. Her chin is wet and her hair tousled and Sibella tells herself this is the prettiest she's ever seen her. Her head falls back onto the pillows and she closes her eyes, slowly catching her breath. Phoebe's small body surprises her at her side, wrapping an arm around Sibella's naked waist, a kiss in the crook of her neck.

"You look very beautiful," she tells Sibella.

Sibella snorts, but she suddenly feels very naked, very exposed, and sits up to grab her things from the floor, even just her undies and a shirt.

"So do you," she mutters.

Phoebe sits up as well, warmly pressing herself against Sibella's side again, another flurry of kisses against her shoulder, her neck, and an arm jealously keeping her close.

"Don't you leave me here," she says. "I've wanted to…"

"I'm not leaving," Sibella replies sharply, stiffly, and her heart is pounding. "I… I'd like to use the bathroom. And clean up."

"Of… course. Go right ahead."

Phoebe points to the small bathroom on the side of her room and Sibella grabs all her things, disappearing behind that door. She drops all her things on the floor immediately, leaning over the sink, her breath heavy and the feelings catching up on her. She swallows all of them down, doesn't let the tears roll down. _You filth_ , she thinks, _you utter filth. Is this how you were bred and raised?_ On the side of the sink, she sees Phoebe's perfume, the same that gets caught on her clothes whenever they've studied together that lulls her to sleep those nights. She looks up at her reflection staring at her blankly and turns on the tap. Cold water on her face, her hands, and cleaning herself up from whatever Phoebe has been doing to her, cleansing herself.

"Are you okay?" Phoebe asks, a gentle rap at the door.

Sibella puts her clothes back on like the cold is gnawing at her, like she couldn't wait to get any sense of warmth − and of sense and dignity. She opens the door and Phoebe gives her a smile of relief, worry still knitted in her traits and Sibella takes her hand, stroking its back.

"I'm fine. So, French Lit, was it?"

She gets her textbook back from the floor and sits on a chair by Phoebe's bed, crossing her legs, pleasantly smiling at her. They need to finish studying. Sibella wouldn't switch study partners for the world.

 


End file.
